The Matrix Has You
by BryteTwilight
Summary: This is a re-write of the Matrix, with extra scenes, extra dialogue, and such. R and R please, constructive crits are very nice. **CHAPTERS THREE AND FOUR UP**
1. Without Boundaries

Disclaimer: First of all, I do not own anything to do with the matrix and blah. I wish I did, but I don't-the credit goes to Mr. Wachowski and the other Mr. Wachowski. This is simply a retelling of the movie in novel form, with some extra scenes and jazz. This is also my first rewriting of something, and the first fic I plan to compete ((Not that I have quit on my others! Just taking a break. A long break.)) Have fun, and reviews would be nice, especially if they contain constructive criticism!  
  
Author's Note: To write this, I was looking at an older script, and some alterations have been made since then. There have been some name changes ((such as Anthony to Choi)), although I have fixed those. I've gone through both the movie and the script and combined the dialogue, so it may be a bit different. So, if you're going to flame me, please don't flame because of that.  
  
Chapter One: Without Boundaries  
  
Take a good look at your phone. No, excuse me, don't just look at it- look into it. Look into its purpose. Transmission. Without communication, existence would be meaningless. Billions of words, meanings, finding their way into a minuscule cord to travel as far as need be. Programs running the cord, foreign integers and characters, building a network of communication and existence throughout the world. And yet more integers and characters, more meanings, infinitesimal within those visible.  
  
To the average individual, none of this is thought of, but as a woman dialed a number on her cell phone, it was all she saw.  
  
"Hello?" She spoke.  
  
"Hello," was the reply, from a man.  
  
"I'm inside. Anything to report?" She sounded slightly urgent, not as if she were in a hurry, but in a reminiscent tone of worry  
  
The man on the phone hesitated for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "Let's see. Target left work at 5:01 PM. He caught the northbound Howard line. Got off at Sheridan. Stopped at 7-11. Purchased six-pack of beer and a box of Captain Crunch. Returned home."  
  
"All right, you're relieved. Use the usual exit."  
  
"Do you know when we're going to make contact?" "Soon."  
  
"Is everything in place?"  
  
"You aren't s'possed to relieve me."  
  
"I know, but I felt like taking a shift."  
  
"You like him, doncha? You like watching him."  
  
"Don't be ridiculous."  
  
"We're gonna kill him, you understand that?!"  
  
"Morpheus believes he is the one."  
  
"Just between you and me, you don't really believe it, do you?" The man voice picked up a cynical tone. "You don't really believe that this guy is the one?"  
  
"I think Morpheus believes he is."  
  
"I know he does, I've heard it enough from him; but what about you?"  
  
"I think Morpheus knows things that I don't."  
  
"Yeah, but if he's wrong-"  
  
A click sounded, deep in the makeup of the hard line. Those meanings, the numbers and letters, the communication between the two, had been broken. Just for a little while.  
  
"Shh. Did you hear that?" The woman asked.  
  
"Hear what?"  
  
"Are you sure this line is clean?"  
  
"Yeah, of course I'm sure."  
  
"I better go."  
  
"Yeah, right. See you on the other side."  
  
The woman hung up her phone, and turned to look behind her. No one there; good. She continued up the street, her black boots barely scraping the sidewalk. She was clad in leather from head to toe, blending perfectly with the night around her. Unfortunately, all nights have their delusions.  
  
She walked along softly, contemplating her mission. Streetlights shone; she would avoid them. Now, as for the target.what was the area code? Tank had programmed her something, but she could not remember offhand. She stopped for a moment and leaned against a brick wall. Her eyes laid shut behind her sunglasses as she focus, filing through the cabinets of her mind. Oh, yes. She was near. Just a little while that way-  
  
Sirens interrupted her stream of thought. Wails pierced the city, blaring through the streets and fading into the alleyways. At the turn of a corner, she approached an abandoned hotel. Good, she said silently; perhaps it would be of shelter. There was a side staircase, which would provide a better entrance. Three flights were conquered in only a few leaps. She silently pried open the door at the top and began to peek around the corner. A few inches; no one. A few more; no one. A few more-  
  
Gunfire erupted through the placid night, but the woman did not jump. She drew two pistols and fell back around the door. Her attackers-a police force, apparently-approached, but their skill was nowhere near that of the woman. She jumped around the corner, flipping and shooting all at once. One down, two down, three. But the fourth; was there a fourth? She tried to remember, but it had been a blur. Then, suddenly, hands gripped her neck and a gun was at her head. She pulled her heel up, attempting to catch her aggressor in the crotch, but only hit air. She pulled her fist back for a face hit, but again there was nothing.  
  
"Trinity. It's been a while."  
  
*****  
  
On the ground, a black sedan crawled along the street, silent and enigmatic. It sneaked up into a pack of squad cars, and it would have been invisible among the sirens and lights if it had not been of such importance. The car pulled up at the curb, but the door was opening even before it stopped moving. Two men hopped out, in a hurry although they did not show it. Dark suits fell over their shoulders, and they were clad in sunglasses despite the late hour.  
  
"Lieutenant?" One of the men, the balder of the two, spoke to the head of the police force.  
  
The Lieutenant sighed. Did they not think that his force could handle the job on their own? Or was he going to be reprimanded for some reason? He quickly examined the two men, and noticed cords snaking their way into their suits. He looked at their ears and saw headphones. "Oh, shit." he muttered to himself. Secret service agents. They were hardwired.  
  
The agent spoke in a deep, calm, almost cynical tone. "Lieutenant, you were given specific orders-"  
  
Damn; he was going to be told off. "I'm just doing my job," he replied, in a tone of severe disrespect. "You gimme that Juris-my dick-tion and you can cram it up your ass."  
  
A smirk flickered across the agent's face. "The orders were for your protection."  
  
The Lieutenant laughed. What was this?! "I think we can handle one little girl, thank you-hey, wait, my men are up there! I already sent two units, they're bringing her down now--" The agents had exchanged a nod before starting off to the hotel.  
  
"No, lieutenant," the agent spoke, cutting him off. "By now, your men are already dead."  
  
*****  
  
Back in the hotel, Trinity was inwardly flushed with embarrassment. She was tied to a chair, hands behind her back. She had never allowed herself in this position before; she was too good. Agents, however, were the only 'people' in her category of combat.  
  
"Trinity, it's been a while," he had said.  
  
A while? She had thought. She turned around once the grip on her throat had relaxed, to see a suited man standing behind her.  
  
Run, her instincts had told her. Run, it's an agent, you can't do a thing, he'll kill you-  
  
"Nice to see you again."  
  
"I've never met you before in my life."  
  
He laughed and kicked hard, nailing Trinity in the stomach. She had grunted and tried to rise, but was immediately pinned to the floor by his foot.  
  
"Sure, you haven't. Excuse me." He pulled her up by the neck of her shirt and tossed her across the floor. She'd resisted the urge to shout, and remained still.  
  
The agent glanced at a chair in the corner, and then at Trinity. In moments, her wrists were bound together, and she felt vulnerable. She was going to die, she was going to die.  
  
A sharp laugh emerged from the agent. "They'll come for you now, I'm sure they will." He exited the room, leaving the door ajar.  
  
Thus, remembering, her embarrassment left her in a flourish. She was alone; what had he meant to do? But Trinity began to worry; this was too simple, too easy.  
  
He means for the others to come and rescue her? She laughed, as her worry left again. They would never come, when there were agents. Her life was not so valuable, but she did not mind; she would rather die than have the whole crew perish.  
  
Throughout her thoughts, Trinity's wounds ached on. She concentrated, speaking to herself. "Trinity, you're fine, you're fine, these aren't real, you're okay, get up. Get up."  
  
As her thoughts commanded, Trinity broke the bounds and rose. At the first sign of movement, yet another police squad entered the room, firing wildly. The largest of the cops lacked a gun, but he flicked out a pair of handcuffs; he'd done this before, so many times. He knew they had her. He held up a hand and the firing ceased. Then, he held out the cuffs and grabbed at Trinity's wrists. She snatched away, moving so inhumanly fast, it almost didn't register. The moment the cop blinked, her hand snapped up against his nose. Blood erupted and she hit again, jamming his nose back into his skull, which collapsed. The cop was dead before he even hit the ground.  
  
The other cops broke out of a daze. One drew his pistol and started firing, but Trinity dodged every bullet. In between shots, she grabbed his wrist, snapped it, and redirected the gun towards one of his allies. A head exploded, and more blood flew through the air.  
  
Trinity jumped smoothly, and reverted into a roundhouse kick. She kicked away another gun; just one man left. He screamed in panic, but his scream was cut off as Trinity jumped up and crushed his windpipe with another kick. She turned around and looked at the four lifeless bodies.  
  
"Shit." 


	2. A Small Glitch

Disclaimer: I don't own the Matrix or anything related to the Matrix. I do, however, own the parts I added-yes, that includes the déjà vu.  
  
Author's Note: Hey! You know what?! I'm re-writing the Matrix! So that must mean I'm the Architect, right! I RULE YOU!  
  
Chapter Two: A Small Glitch  
  
Trinity pulled out her cell and waited, pacing the room as it rang. One, two. Then, an answer, from a deep, rich male voice.  
  
"Operator?"  
  
"Morpheus!" Trinity stopped pacing and spoke, frantic. "The line was traced, I don't know how-"  
  
"I know, I know, they cut the hard line," his reply was uptight, as well. "Stay calm. You're going to have to look for another exit."  
  
Trinity paused, not sure if she wanted to hear the answer to her question. "Are there any more agents?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Goddamn it!" Trinity cursed.  
  
Morpheus's voice was calming. "Trinity, you have to focus. There is a phone. Wells and Lake." He hesitated, studying his information. "You can make it."  
  
"All right."  
  
"Go."  
  
She dropped the phone, sprinting out of the room as her orders commanded. She glanced down the hallway, beyond the ancient pumps and wires to the elevator. Just as Morpheus had stated, there were agents; three of them. And cops. Shit.  
  
Trinity raced down the hall, not yet tired despite her great speed. Where to go, where to exit? She looked up, spotting the vents. They were old and rusted, they must be loose. She jumped, pounding one it in, but instead hit solid flesh. Looking up again, an agent was wedged in between the sheets of metal.  
  
He grinned honey-slow. "Hello, Trinity."  
  
Her mouth twitched as she fell, picking herself up and then sprinting down the hallway. Old lights flickered on and off, catching the dust as their rays fell. The cops could not keep up, but the agents were gaining on her.  
  
There, at the end of the hall. A door, leading back to the side staircase by which she had entered. Run, run, down, get to Wells, get down.  
  
She stopped abruptly, staring through the rusted iron bars. Damn; another agent. She could only go up.  
  
Up she went, racing through the twisted spiral of stairs. When she reached the top, she glanced back, pausing for a moment. Were they still after her? Where were they?  
  
Trinity had hesitated a moment too long. Immediately, a stream of cops rose from the steps, an agent leading them. Trinity backed up, running into a ladder. She turned and climbed, for her life.  
  
Trinity grabbed the highest rung and flipped over. A cityscape shone around her, stars and skyscrapers glowing in the dark. Steam and smoke rose from pipes; it was cold out. The rooftops; a great escape, quick and efficient. Running, Trinity heard the steps clatter behind her. If only there were no agents!  
  
As the hotel building cut off, Trinity glided over the alleyway to the next rooftop, her movements clean and graceful. The cops followed, but barely succeeded, tripping and falling as they landed. Next, however, came an agent, and his movements were as unnaturally smooth and graceful as Trinity's.  
  
The next roof was a zigzag of rusted metal. Feet rattled and clanked up and down, in cold pursuit. As the roof ended, cop sirens screamed through the air below, and although they were tearing away at Trinity's ears, she remained placid. The next roof would be over forty feet away, but she pushed on, jumping the gap with great elegance. The cops stopped in place, their jaws slacking wide open, realizing that something ugly was about to happen as the girl they were chasing flipped through the air.  
  
She tumbled into a landing and continued on, forcing herself behind a brick chimney as she heard the agent jump the gap. He landed hard on one knee, pulling up a shoulder and drawing his gun. Back on top of the previous building, the cops were staring, dumfounded. "That's impossible," the lieutenant called.  
  
Trinity smiled slightly to herself as she pressed against the wall. She took a deep breath, her clavicle poking out beneath her skin as she examined her surroundings. Hurry, hurry.  
  
There, ahead. Across a fifty foot gap, there was a window, a yellow glow in the midst of a brown brick building. Her only chance.  
  
Setting her jaw in determination, she sped out from behind the chimney and across the building. Thirty more feet; twenty; fifteen; ten; five; jump!  
  
She hurtled herself through the air, vaulting over the railing and streamlining towards the window. Time seemed to slow as bullets whizzed past her. So close--  
  
The glass shattered as Trinity fell through the window, breaking a light and tumbling down the stairs as she drew her guns. Her lip was cut, she noticed, as well as her forehead. She licked the blood from her lips and halted in position at the bottom of the stairs, aiming at the window. Would the agents come? Where were they, where were they?!  
  
Trinity lay on the floor, shaking. "Get up Trinity, just get up. You're fine, these aren't real, you're fine, get up!"  
  
She did as her body commanded, filing down the stairs and onto the street. In a pool of shadows, she limped, but proceeded on. There, in a pool of light, she saw it; the telephone booth. The exit.  
  
She started down the concrete path, still hurt, as the phone began to ring. Her pace quickened-where were the agents?-just a little more-but wait. She hesitated slightly, recalling an incident.  
  
"Get up, Trinity, just get up. You're fine, these aren't real, you're fine, get up!"  
  
She drew in a deep breath, approaching the phone. Déjà vu. Déjà vu! There had to be a glitch, it was a trap, it was where the agents went, where were they, where were they?  
  
There, sure enough, a garbage truck u-turned and began streaming down the street. In the drivers seat sat a man, clad in sunglasses and a dark suit. Its headlights streamed through the night, one pointing at the phone and the other at Trinity. It was taking aim. The tires screamed as it accelerated, tearing through the night.  
  
Trinity raced the truck, gritting her teeth in pain. She slammed open the door and, just a few yards in front of the speeding truck, answered the phone. She stared into the headlights for a moment, pressing her hand up to the wall ahead of her in silence. An instant of silence.  
  
Then slamming, as the hulking mass of dark metal lurched into the phone booth. The Plexiglas shattered into a pulp, the brick wall was strewn apart. The garbage truck rebounded and steamed to a halt.  
  
After a few precious seconds, a black loafer emerged from the truck. Then, five more. Agents Smith, Brown, and Jones stand silently. Smith inspected the wreckage, finding no body. He set his jaw in frustration and began to rub his temples.  
  
Jones walked up behind him. "She got out," he spoke, disappointed.  
  
Brown approached, as well. "Doesn't matter. The informant is real."  
  
"We have the name of their next target," Jones continued, completing the sentence of his fellow agent.  
  
"The name is Neo," stated Brown.  
  
Smith nodded slowly, coming to terms. "We'll need a search running."  
  
The reply came with certainty as the three agents stared intensely at the phone. "It has already begun. 


	3. The White Rabbit

Chapter Three: The White Rabbit  
  
Waves of communication do not exist only in phones, although they are a main source. However, their codes are intertwined with all others, producing a network, on which life thrives.  
  
A network.  
  
A program?  
  
Never mind what it is, for now, as it does not matter. What matters is its purpose; information. Binary emissions exist everywhere need be, including the screen you are examining this very moment.  
  
However, I can assure you that other screens relay much more useful information, such as the one in the living room of a man named Thomas A. Anderson.  
  
Mr. Anderson lived the cluttered life of a hacker, as was apparent from the condition of his apartment. Papers were scattered about and true furniture was scarce among the mass of speakers, headphones, computer screens, keyboards, disks, and weed-like cables that surrounded the man. Oh, yes, this room was a feast for the network, overgrown with technology. His eyes were shut and his head lay silent in between the muddle, although his headphones remained on. His face was young looking, but unlike many his age he seemed to know more about living inside a computer than outside of one. Next to him say a bowl of cereal, but Thomas was unconcerned about it spilling.  
  
As he slept, however, the computer lived on. A message board had been set up, by Mr. Anderson, of course, and was entitled "The Matrix." A few minutes earlier, there had been no posts, but now they swarmed as a search ran through all replies, looking for exactly what Thomas wanted to find. Of course, there was no guarantee that he would find it.  
  
NEO: Board open to replies.  
  
JACKON: I heard Morpheus has been on this board.  
  
SUPERASTIC: Morpheus doesn't even exist, none of the detectives can find him and he's been hacking longer than we've been breathing. And the Matrix is nothing but an advertising gimmick 4 a new game.  
  
QUARK: The Matrix is a euphemism for the government.  
  
TIMAXE: You mean MTV.  
  
SUPERASTIC: He means Sega.  
  
FOS4: ALL HAIL SEGA!!!  
  
Thomas sat up and sighed. "Idiots don't know shit," he muttered to himself. However, online, he was not known by his birth-given name, but as the hacker alias, Neo. He took another spoonful of the cereal and once again rested his head on the desk.  
  
A buzz sounded in his headphones as the computer screen went black. Green text scrolled across the screen. A private message? Neo didn't accept them, but here one was.  
  
The screen flashed. "Wake up, Neo."  
  
Neo glanced at the screen and froze, reading his name. He winced. "Hackers hacking hackers."  
  
The screen went blank, and then more words popped up. This time they came slower, hesitating, letter by letter. "The Matrix has you."  
  
"What?" Neo squinted at the screen and glanced behind him. The Matrix? Someone knew? Who was this, where were they?! This wasn't safe, no, his own computer being hacked. He hesitated slightly, and then hit escape. No response. "What the hell. . . "  
  
"Follow the white rabbit."  
  
"White rabbit?" Neo read aloud. He hit escape again, twice, three times. Nothing happened.  
  
"Knock knock, Neo."  
  
A chill ran down his spine. Then, a knock at the door. Neo almost jumped out of his chair. He looked at the door, contemplating whether to answer or not, and then back at the screen.  
  
The message was gone.  
  
Neo stood, composing himself. "Coincidence. . .coincidence. . ." He shook his head, not quite sure what had happened, when someone knocked again.  
  
"Hey, Tommy-boy, you in there?! Open up!" Neo immediately relaxed. Choi. One of his customers.  
  
"I'm coming, hold on." Neo walked to the door and turned the handle, making sure the lock was in place before he released it. This way, the door would only open a few inches, just in case. Neo shook his head once he had completed the process; he was being stupid.  
  
There was another knock, and Neo opened the door.  
  
Sure enough, there was Choi, but with a group of friends, all wildly dressed in black leather and piercings. He smirked, noting one girl's nose ring, which was chained to her ear.  
  
"You're two hours late."  
  
"I know, it's her fault," Choi replied, glancing at the woman next to him, who his arm was wrapped around.  
  
Neo opened his mouth to ask exactly what had happened, but then decided that he didn't want to know.  
  
"I need your help, man. Desperate," he said, although not looking very  
worried at all. "They got me, man. The shackles of fascism." He held  
up a red notice.  
  
"You got the money this time?"  
  
Choi held up two hundred dollars and slapped it into Neo's hand.  
  
"Hold on," Neo said, shutting the door and turning towards his bookcase. He pulled out one with false pages and inserted the money into a slot before grabbing a disk. He opened the door again and handed the disk to Choi.  
  
He grinned. "You're my savior, man. My own personal Jesus Christ."  
  
Neo hesitated. "You get caught using that--"  
  
He was cut off. "I know, I know it's never happened. You don't exist."  
  
Neo nodded and looked to the ground.  
  
"Something wrong, man? You look a little whiter than usual."  
  
Neo smirked at his comment. "My computer-it-" He paused, searching for the right words. "You ever have that feeling, when you're not sure if you're awake or still dreaming?"  
  
Choi nodded, and his girlfriend smiled. "All the time. It's called mescaline, it's the only way to fly."  
  
Neo sighed and looked to the ground. "Well, I better go."  
  
Before he could close the door, Choi called "Hey, it sounds to me like you just need to unplug, man! You know, get some R&R?!" He looked to his girlfriend, and tightened his grip around his shoulders. "What'd you think, Dujour? Should we bring him with us?"  
  
She looked Neo over with she same stare she had been giving him the whole conversation. It made him nervous, being examined, but he was indifferent when she replied. "Definitely."  
  
Neo shrugged and looked away. "Uh, I can't. I have work tomorrow."  
  
Dujour pressed herself against Choi, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning her face against his. "Come on, it'll be fun," She said, looking Neo over again with her red-shadowed eyes. "I promise." As she turned, her shirt slid back, exposing her shoulder blades. She was covered in tattoos of all kinds, from bands and symbols to military slogans. But there, on her arm.  
  
Neo gasped. A white rabbit.  
  
"Sure. I'll go."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Author's note: I FINALLY GOT IT UPLOADED!!! As it says on my profile, the site was being stew-pod, and nothing would come up. So yeah, I'm glad. This isn't my best chapter, but oh well, I guess. Maybe I'll rewrite it later. I apologize for the short length of this chapter, but it's a short scene. Also-will someone teach me how to do the bold and italic text? Another problem is that whenever I put three dots, you know, to show a pause, when I upload the document, it only shows up as a period. How do I fix that? Thanks SO MUCH, everyone, for the reviews! Especially Chord! --Bryte 


	4. The Question

Chapter Four: The Question  
  
Throughout the city, many mothers persuaded young children to crawl into bed. Security guards on night duty were stifling yawns. The stars shone vibrantly in the night sky.  
  
Of course, those in a downtown club frankly didn't give a damn.  
  
Smoke hung like a veil over the people, of which the minority gathered around the furniture in cliques, like jungle cats about a tree. The rest raved the night away under the dim lights, extravagantly clad in anything from simple black leather and dreadlocks to chains and mohawks, and one woman with hot pink braids was spotted topless. Shadow-like figures grinded away in the flickers of the strobe lights to the hypnotic beat of industrial music.  
  
Quite naturally, Neo (in a suit) felt very out of place. He leaned against a wall, alone, and sipped a bit of his drink. Tearing his eyes away from the men dancing in cages, he filtered the music from his mind and began to wonder why whoever had sent him a PM had wanted him to come here.  
  
Minutes passed. Once, a woman had slid up the wall right in front of Neo and began dancing, slipping him erotic glances in between shaking her wild mane of hair. Neo, rather unsure of what to do, had slipped away quietly while she wasn't looking.  
  
Safe on the other side of the building, Neo had had enough. This was stupid. He turned to leave, but someone caught him.  
  
"Hello, Neo," a woman approached him from behind. How did she know his name? Not just his name, but his hacker alias? Neo grimaced.  
  
Indeed, it had not been a joke. He had followed the white rabbit for a reason.  
  
He glanced back quickly in anxiety and avoided her eyes, examining her from top to bottom. No, she didn't look like anyone that would cause trouble for him, but of course, it could be a disguise.  
  
"How do you know that name?"  
  
Neo looked at her face and drew in a sharp breath. Very pretty, he noticed. Classical, but still fitting in among the others in the club-and yet cold. What did she want from him?  
  
A smile flickered across her face as Neo turned away slightly. "I know a lot about you."  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
"My name is Trinity," she replied. Finally, she thought, they meet. After months of searching, and many more of watching, she was here with Neo. She smiled again at his bewildered look. It was apparent that had either had too much to drink, or had taken his job as a hacker seriously.  
  
"Trinity? The Trinity? That cracked the I.R.S. D-Base?" Good, she thought, it was the latter. He was quicker than the others.  
  
"That was a long time ago."  
  
"Jesus. . ." he said, trailing off and looking away again.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I just thought, um." He flushed inwardly, a little embarrassed. "You were a guy."  
  
She smiled again, used to the reply by now. "Most guys do."  
  
He took a step closer to her. "That was you at my computer." He stared intently into her eyes. "How did you do that?"  
  
She did not break his gaze and moved near to him, tilting her head up and speaking directly into his ear. The music was loud, but she did not want to risk anyone overhearing her words. "Right now, all I can tell you is that you're in danger. Please listen," she rushed as Neo opened his mouth to reply. "I brought you here to warn you."  
  
"Of what?"  
  
"They're watching you, Neo."  
  
He glanced at her face, hesitatingly and slightly questioningly, but not very taken aback. "Who is?"  
  
"Please, just listen," Trinity repeated, and leaned in slightly. "I. . . I know why you're here, Neo. I know what you've been doing. I know why you hardly sleep, why you live alone, and why night after night, you sit at your computer." She paused. Yes, security was a great matter, but this was nice, standing next to him. Comforting. She grimaced slightly and recoiled, sure that he did not feel the same. After all, she would be a stranger to him. He had not been watching her in the way she had watched him. He did not know, he had not heard the predictions, as she had. . .  
  
She continued. "You're looking for him. I know, because I was once looking for the same thing." Her voice drug Neo in with its hypnotic, nostalgetic quality. He could not see her eyes glazing over in memory, in thought. "And, when he found me, he told me that I wasn't really looking for him. . .I was looking for an answer."  
  
Her lashes brushed his cheek. "It's the question that drives us, Neo. It's the question that brought you here. You know the question, just as I did. . ." she trailed off.  
  
"What is the matrix?"  
  
"The answer is out there, Neo. It's looking for you. And it will find you. . .if you want it to."  
  
Trinity stepped away, gazing into his eyes one last time as she disappeared, weaving away in the crowd. It might be a few days before they met again.  
  
She paused and bit her lip, and then realized that she had never really met him in the first place.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Author's note: Man, I wish Neo would have danced with me! Anyway. Yes, again, short scene, not my best work, yadda yadda, I'll revise it. Thanks again for the reviews, everyone. Chapter five will be coming soon. --Bryte 


End file.
